Les Monstres
by Emperor K. Rool
Summary: An Homage to the musical Les Miserables. The story of a monster's journey to hope, faith, and love. This is the post Monsters's Inc. story of Randall Boggs
1. Randall's Soliloquy

_Monster's Inc_ belongs to Disney/Pixar. _Les Misérables_ was written by Victor Hugo in the 1800s so it's public domain now. The song lyrics here are part mine, part Alain Boubil's. Some of the dialogue in this chapter is taken directly from the French TV miniseries of Les Misérable but I've tried to make it fit the Monster World. My OC Brandon Rookings is based on the series _Gargoyles_.

* * *

Escaping the Human World had been easy enough. Practically every house had at least one closet that led to the Monster World. No, the major problems Randall Boggs faced were on his return to the Monster World. Everyone knew that he had kidnapped a human child and had twice attempted to kill James P. Sullivan—once by strangulation and once by trying to make him fall from the door conveyor.

While everyone considered the abduction of the child wrong, they had to admit that with the energy crisis someone was bound to do something crazy. Waternoose spent a month in prison until his grandchildren posted his bail. The judge had been won over by the grandfatherly spider-crabb's insistence that he had only done this because he saw it as the last resort, and let him off comparatively easy.

Randall, though, had been the one to design the scream extractor. He had been the scheme's initiator. In the public's mind he deserved more punishment. Stupid public. Waternoose had the final say on whether or not the project went ahead. However Waternoose justified the decision to himself, he was the one who made that decision. He had the most responsibility, he should get the most time. But no, he got away with a wrist slap thanks to his rich relatives.

Heck, Waternoose even ordered that Randall leave no witnesses. Of course Randall saw Sullivan as the primary cause of all of his life's problems. He'd be happy to see Sullivan dead or banished, but he still didn't give the orders. It was Waternoose, who actually liked Sulllivan, who gave the orders. In short, Waternoose should have spent these last ten years in the slammer while Randall should've gotten out after a month. But the chameleon didn't have rich relatives.

Still the blue jerk wouldn't press charges on Waternoose or Randall for the attempted murder. If there was anything that Randall hated more than losing it was being felt sorry for. That reminded him too much of his pre-college days when he'd been labeled a nerd. His only cool friends in college, the RΩR fraternity deserted him when Sullivan upstaged him in the last event of the Scare Games. He thought he'd had the last laugh when Sullivan was expelled. In three more years he'd finished his degree and spent two years as Monsters Inc's top scarer when Sullivan re-entered his life again and stole that from him. He spent the next five years in Sullivan's shadow. Sullivan had also stolen Randall's one-time friend Mike Wazowski. He'd helped Wazowski study and Sullivan had treated him like dirt. Then ever since those two had joined Oozma Kappa they had been best friends. Randall had asked to join the cool fraternity and had gotten in. Mike—no, Wazowski—had asked him to return to the geek fold. He couldn't do it, he struggled his whole life to be free. He'd hoped that Mike could find some way to fulfill his dreams, but Mike couldn't expect him to sacrifice his own. It wasn't personal when Randall doused the Oozma Kappa team with paint, confetti, and flowers. That was war. What Sullivan had done to him was personal. Mike had Oozma Kappa to share his moment of disgrace. Randall lost his fraternity in his moment of disgrace. He'd lost his chance to be cool to Sullivan. He lost the prestige of being top scarer to Sullivan. Sullivan was the most prominent face of a nameless tormentor that for all his life Randall had wanted to defeat and to be: the jock.

Randall had spent his whole life fighting jocks like Sullivan and it was a war that could never be won. Now Randall had spent a decade rotting in prison over some stupid human girl. Randall didn't even know if humans were capable of the complexity of emotions monsters felt. Sure they were nearly as intelligent, but they were still lower life forms. Okay, for the sake of argument—argument, mind you—he had made a moral misjudgment. Still the time that he, a monster, had spent in prison was a far greater wrong than anything he had done to the human child.

Unlike the other prisoners he refused to look down and purposely looked the guards in the eyes. One person in particular made Randall's blood boil: an inspector who often visited the jail cells to observe the criminal mind. This particular inspector was a gargoyle—complete with bat-like wings, a tail, dark blue skin, a beak-shaped mouth, and white hair that flowed past his shoulders. As was necessary for a gargoyle, he wore a loincloth. He wasn't bulky, but his muscles were well toned. He had almost certainly been a jock in high school and college. He was also young enough to have been a pre-teen when Randall was top scarer. Randall hated him.

"Prisoner 24601, your time is up and your parole's begun. You know what that means?"

"Yes," Randall said. "It means I can leave so long as I wear a gps tracker on my foot that will make me a social pariah."

"The tracker will keep us informed on where you go. If you were so eager to kidnap a human child, how far do you have to be pushed to harm monsters?"

That treip again.

"I was trying to save the Monster World from an energy crisis!"

"But you didn't, 24601. James Sullivan did."

This was the first time anyone had ever insinuated that Sullivan was smarter than he was. Stronger, yes. Scarier…hopefully not. But smarter? That was supposed to Randall's safe zone. He had invented the Scream Extractor after all. His hatred of the inspector was reaching boiling point.

"Like Sullivan would have known to harness human children's laughter if he hadn't spent time with the child I kidnapped." Then there was the matter of being addressed by his prisoner number.

"My name is Randall Boggs!"

"And I'm Brandon Rookings," the gargoyle shot back. "Do not forget my name! Do not forget me, 24601."

The gargoyle who shared his reversed initials left and in a matter of moments the guards removed Randall from the cell. His orange jacket was removed and a thick silver bracelet placed around his back left foot at the ankle. Before it was time to go, the guards brought him to the warden's office.

The warden was a giant, furry, brown monster with two long horns and a vaguely lupine face. He was sitting at his desk when the guards shoved Randall into his office.

"Boggs, it's been quite a while. I see your tracking device is in place. You understand why you're here."

"Yes. I'm on parole. Hopefully, my first step toward freedom."

The warden sighed. "Due to the nature of your crimes, you will probably be on parole forever. If we lose track of you, you'll go back to the slammer forever." The warden closed his eyes and took a breath. "Good luck with your life."

Randall knew that he would have to be very careful now. The slightest broken rule could land him right back in jail, but at least he had the chance for a semi-normal life now and maybe within a few years a chance to ruin Sullivan's if he was creative enough. Yes, Randall Boggs felt hope as the doors to the prison closed behind him.

Randall was at least partially free now. He walked along the highway leading to downtown Monstropolis. For the first time in twelve years he wouldn't be waking up in a prison cell. Even the breeze which was so chilling to an ectotherm like Randall felt good. The sky was sapphire blue and the clouds were so fluffy. Randall was not one to enjoy the scenery but after so many years locked up, the natural world looked so beautiful to him. Anything for a change from the grays of the prison cell. He couldn't survive for long without money and a place to lodge for the night. The most obvious solution was to go back to his old apartment and see if anyone had moved in. Then he would go apply for a job at Monstromart as a cashier. It seemed almost defeatist, but he was a social pariah now and that seemed the most secure place for him to start.

He walked into his old apartment building. It was a drab red brick building but it was home. Twenty families must have lived within the five stories. The lobby on the first floor was a common area where monsters chatted. Randall expected the familiar atmosphere to comfort him. He even saw Sid the cockroach monster, one of his old neighbors through the window, sitting in one of the chairs with a newspaper. The moment he stepped through the door everyone gasped at him.

_So they're afraid of me. This might not be so bad after all._ Then a large purple slug with four tentacles and no antennae approached. Apparently, he was the new landlord.

"Sir, since you are obviously being tracked, you are a dangerous criminal. We cannot allow you in this building, for the residents' safety."

Randall's jaw dropped.

"I used to live here!" Randall eyed Sid. "Sid, you know me, tell him I'm not dangerous!"

The cockroach monster shifted nervously in his chair. He had known Randall as an acquaintance, but so had many other monsters before Randall had shown his true colors.

"Sir, for everyone's safety, you must leave," the slug said.

Randall snarled through gritted teeth and left. The nerve of those people to throw him out of his own apartment. He had to find somewhere to stay the night and fast. But everywhere he went the large-enough-to-notice silver bracelet gave him away as a "dangerous criminal." Not a single place would take him in. He refused to despair, that would be self-destructive. Instead he got angry. Anger was a constructive emotion.

* * *

The only thing Randall could do was turn invisible and spend the night on the street, cold as that would be. He would not go to Sullivan and Wazowski if his life depended on it. That would be the ultimate defeat, to beg his arch nemeses to have mercy on him. By now the sun had sat, and Randall had wandered to the outskirts of the city near an old graveyard. He aimed to stay there for the night when an old yeti with a flash light spotted him. Randall instinctively turned invisible, but the silver band gleamed in the light. Randall became visible as he studied the yeti's own appearance. He was wearing the black robe of a priest.

"Do you need a place to stay for the night?" his voice sounded like he truly cared, but then Randall had known many voice actors. He was shocked that someone with the religious authorities would want to help a criminal. Most of the followers of that particular priest's religion Randall knew as ignorant, superstitious hypocrites.

"You wouldn't want to take me in. I'm a dangerous criminal."

"I think I'll risk it. You need a place to stay."

Randall followed the old yeti up the road to the temple, a two story building that had many stained-glass windows. They entered the building. The priest lead Randall through several rooms with arched ceilings lit only by candles.

"This place feels very medieval," Randal said. "No lights?"

"This temple is a one of Monstropolis' historic sites. No one is allowed to make any alterations."

Randall could therefore count on drifting to sleep by losing consciousness due to the building's drafty nature and lack of a heating system.

They walked into a room with a table where two sisters—that is both biological sisters and sisters of a religious order—had prepared something edible and had set it on a long table. It looked like some kind of herbal stew. The two sisters had rectangular gelatinous bodies arising from what looked like mobile tree roots. They each had a mouth and five antennae arising from the top of their rectangular bodies that ended in eyes. The only difference between them was that one was green and the other was blue.

The priest motioned for Randall to take a seat near the head of the table with the two sisters and himself. Randall was sure that there would be some kind of prayer before they began to eat so he waited on the priest who acted just as Randall had guessed.

"We give thanks for the food, thanks for our dear sisters, and thanks for our honored brother."

Randall coughed when he heard the priest call him an "honored brother." Had the old yeti already forgotten that he was a "dangerous criminal"? How could he be "honored" anyway? His reputation was soiled beyond recovery and he had no money to speak of…

Randall looked at his spoon and plate. They were solid silver. He looked at the other's plates and utensils. They were solid silver too. Randall was not a petty thief, but he was in a financially desperate state right now. The only thing that that mattered was how to avoid getting caught. The food was warm enough to keep his body heat up for several hours. He'd act while the others were asleep…

Randall waited ten minutes after he heard the sounds of the others moving around die down. First, to deal with the tracker. He'd be leaving and he didn't want the police following him. It just so happened that knives were on his list. The tracker was tight against his skin but the latch was thin enough that it could be cut through. If Randall only cut the latch, the circuitry in the tracker would still function and give the police the idea that he was still there. Randall took the pillow slips from his bed to use as containers and made his way down to the kitchen where the valuable pure silver plates, forks, spoons, and knives were kept. Years of scaring human children and avoiding their parents had taught Randall how to be fast and silent at the same time. As he took a knife to his tracker, a thought paralyzed him.

_Look at yourself, Randall Boggs. You've resorted to petty burglary._

Yes, Randall admitted. It was a depth to which he would never in a million years thought he would sink. But he really had no choice. Thanks to this thing on his leg that he even now held a knife to, he could not be hired for any job or find any place willing to take him in. At any rate, what he was doing now was not any worse than what most people already thought of him. He wanted revenge on Sullivan, and to get in a position to have revenge, he needed to be financially secure. What he was doing now was wrong but the end justified the means. Ever so slowly, he sawed at the tracking device's latch…

* * *

It was six in the morning when the local police dragged Randall back to the temple. None of the police in question seemed to recognize him or notice that his tracker was gone. They had been called by the owner of the pawn shop where Randall had tried to sell his silver merchandise. Randall had not expected the shop keeper to be a parishioner and recognize the valuables as belonging to the temple. The shopkeeper had excused himself to make a call and then spent thirty minutes haggling with Randall until the cops arrived. The lead officer was a hulking purple cyclops with horns pointing inward. He made no mention of why Randall was not at the same place his tracker was. He simply accused Randall of theft and then when Randall spouted that the priest had given him the valuables, decided to take Randall back to the temple to ask the priest in person. Randall did not know why the officer had taken his statement seriously—Randall wouldn't, had the roles been reversed.

Nevertheless, Randall found himself back at the temple. It was only a matter of time till the priest revealed his theft, his tracker was noticed, and he was sent back to jail for life. Even now as two serpentine, tentacled officers held him and the silver, the cyclops spoke to the priest. He reached a hand into the pillow slip and pulled out a silver cup.

"Do you recognize your possessions? These are marked with your initials."

Randall swallowed. He had moved too quickly. If only he'd worked with this priest to get some kind of job in the community…well, too late now. He was heading back to jail,

"Indeed, this belongs to me," the priest said. The guilty verdict pronounced for Randall to hear.

"Belonged, I should say." He looked at Randall, "Why didn't you explain?"

Randall could not believe his ears. The priest was covering for him!

"Explain what, Father?" The cyclops asked the priest.

"The fact that I gave these to him."

"He said so, but—"

"But what?" The priest looked at Randall, "And what about the candleholders?"

"The candleholders?" Randall asked, as confused as the police.

"Two silver candle holders. I gave them to you, didn't I?"

The police let go of Randall and the priest approached him directly.

"It doesn't matter my dear friend; we'll get them right away. The moment these monsters release you."

The cyclops simply nodded and turned to his subordinates and gestured for them to go to the police car. Randall was alone with the priest who had just covered for him, for reasons he couldn't begin to fathom.

"I'm not senile yet," said the priest, "I didn't give you the silverware. You stole it."

"Why didn't you turn me in, then?"

"So I could purchase your freedom." So, the priest wanted him for some kind of personal servant then. He could keep the silver if this is what that entailed.

"You don't own me," Randall said.

"I was talking about your soul. I would have you redeemed from evil."

Randall couldn't believe it. This priest didn't want to own him. But how could he truly care about his soul if he didn't know his backstory…? At any rate, this was the first kind thing that Randall could remember anyone doing for him in his adult life. He wanted to know what drove his compassion.

"My soul for the price of your silverware?"

"What is your name?" the priest asked. This looked like genuine compassion on the priest's part for Randall as an individual. It felt…warm…

"Boggs," Randall said cautiously. "Randall Boggs."

"From now on, we will walk the same road…that leads to the good. This road isn't easy to travel. You can easily stumble and fall. But there's no greater thing than a monster returning to the path of what's right. I will pray for you, but remember one thing: you are a free monster, just like me."

The priest showed Randall the two candleholders he had mentioned, gave them to Randall and then left the chameleon alone. When the priest was gone Randall realized just how good that compassion felt, how miserable his life had been without it. He also realized how far he had fallen that he resorted to petty thievery.

_Good and gracious God, what is the use?_

_Become a rogue in the dark? Become a cur on the loose?_

_Have I fallen too deep, and is the hour too late_

_That all that survives is the cry of my hate?_

_The cry in the dark that only can fade_

_Where I stand after the passing of two decades!_

_If there's a nicerr way to go_

_I missed it in college long years ago._

_My life was a war against cool guys and jocks._

_They gave me a label and they murdered Boggs_

_When I failed at winning their little game_

_And had a lifetime to live with my shame!_

_Yet why did I allow that priest to touch my heart and teach me good? _

_I was a monster like any other;_

_He gave me his trust; he called me "brother."_

_Could God forgive if he could?_

_Can such things be?_

_For I had come to hate the world, this world that always hated me!_

_Success is what counts! Turn your heart into stone!_

_Be ever the ruthless best! This is all I have known!_

_One word from him and I'd be back,_

_Within the gaol, upon the rack._

_Instead, he offers me my pardon._

_I feel my evil inside me like a knife._

_He told me that I had a soul!_

_How does he know?_

_What spirit comes to move my life?_

_Is there another way to go?_

_I am struggling but I fall, and the dark is closing in_

_As I stare into the gaping chasm of my sin._

_I'll escape now from that world, the world of Randall Boggs!_

_Randall Boggs is nothing now! Another story must begin!_


	2. I Screamed a Scream

The name Leon Powalski refers to a chameleon character in the Star Fox game series. It is also an alias Randall uses in the next few chapters. OCs are going to be major characters in the next few chapters, but we will see Mike, Sulley, and Celia when our story returns to Monstropolis. Mike and Celia's son will be a main character in future chapters. Warning: This chapter has some of the ugly side of the adult world in it but I'm trying to keep a T rating and be no more vulgar than necessary. I also changed the lyrics in the last chapter's song since posting to make them more unique and less copy and paste fro _Les Mis_.

* * *

Five years had passed since Randall Boggs broke parole and disappeared. During that time a normally green scaled chameleon monster named Leon Powalski had appeared in the coastal town of Screamvile-by-the-Sea. He wore a business suit much like Waternoose's and glasses. He had no known family, but, through acts of philmonstrophy earned the town's respect and was now serving as the town's mayor in the first year of a four-year term. One of his greatest acts of charity was investing in the locally owned supermarket, the unimaginatively named Bay Market. It had been a move to give more employees better salaries, health plans, and more time off than they would get at Monstromart. Mayor Powalski's guilty secret was that he was really Randall Boggs. His innocent secret was that he was completely oblivious to the sexual harassment that the store's manager put the female employees through.

The store was located close to the center of town, in fact it was directly across the street from Randall's office in Town Hall. Beth—a purple cyclops who did not share Mike Wazowski's cannonball shaped body but had a distinct head with a mouth and no external ears—wished the customer who had just left the checkout line a nice day. She then looked down at the letter she'd been carrying all day.

"Dear Elizabeth," the letter began, "you must send us more money; your child needs a doctor and there's no time to loose!" She felt her heart sink. The Souzas had told her in previous letters that Sandy was developing a cough that would not go away. If the worst were true and she needed surgery on her lungs…Beth's parents were dead and she had no close family. Sandy's father had left them before Sandy had hatched. Even with the larger paycheck at the Bay Market she could not afford an insurance plan that would see to an operation for her child.

The blue cephalopod with eyes on antennae that ran the next checkout line had no customers at the moment. She saw that Beth didn't either and that she was reading a letter.

"What do you have here?" She said, snatching the letter from Beth's hand.

Indignantly, Beth snatched the letter back. "Give that letter to me! Its none of your business!"

But the cephalopod had quick eyes. "The letter clearly said something about 'your child.' I thought you were a virgin?"

Beth could see where this was going. She had refused to put out for the manager. Not wanting to insult him and lose her job she had sighted moral reasons. Actually she was not a loose monster and the reason things got as far as they did with Sandy's father was because she had naïvely believed that they loved each other and had a future together.

Now, however, the cephalopod was running toward the manager's office—a room inside the market close to the entrance and exit with a door marked "manager." Beth ran to her to stop her and in the process created a disturbance that caught everyone's attention. As the cyclops tried to hold the cephalopod back, customers and other clerks stared to comment and laugh at the spectacle unfolding before them. The manager, an orange furry monster with a horn emerged. Before he could ask any questions his appearance was upstaged by the arrival of a more prominent citizen. Mayor Powalski had just come to do his weekly grocery shopping. He found the sight of two adult monsters grappling with each other to be less than amusing.

"Someone tear these two apart! This is a supermarket not a circus!"

Beth and the cephalopod let go of each other.

"That's better," Randall nodded. "Know do you have anything you'd like each other in private, anything you'd like to say to the manager in private, or anything you'd like me to say to the manager for you in private?" The manager was right there listening to the mayor speak.

Beth came forward and said, "Actually there is something I'd like you to hear me say to the manager."

Randall and the manager were both listening intently when one of the mayor's assistants, the two headed Terry and Teri approached.

"Mr. Mayor," Terry said, "the police force from Monstropolis…"

"They're here," Terri finished.

"And an Inspector Rookings wants to see you."

_Him_…Randall felt fear gnaw at the pit of his stomach. There were only a few monsters who could expose Randall and he was one. This had to be dealt with at once.

"But they weren't supposed to be here for another four hours…Ah, well." Randall looked at Beth and the manager, before saying to the latter, "Hear her out. Be as patient as you can."

When the Mayor left the manager ignored his advice. He brought the two clerks into his office and asked the cephalopod what had happened.

"I saw in a letter that there's a kid she's hiding in some other town. There are monsters that she has to pay and you can guess how she earns her keep."

The manager stared at Beth. She felt a shudder of fear come over her entire body

"You told me you weren't interested in sex?"

"I'm not. I've never sold myself to pay for my child."

"Then where did the child come from?"

He had her there.

"I made a mistake with a monster that I thought loved me and that we would live the rest of our lives together. It was my mistake and my child is paying for it, but please help her! I need the money!" Beth was not sure when she dropped to her knees.

"I'll give you a raise and help you pay for your child, if you do something for me?"

"Sir?" Beth felt hope rising within her.

"Sleep with me."

"No, sir I can't."

"Then I think you should be on your way. You're fired!"

* * *

Randall felt fear gnaw at his gut as he saw the police from Monstropolis gathered around town hall. _Best to get this over with_, he thought, nodded toward the officers on his way and entered the building with Terry and Terri close behind him. He entered his office and, as he was expecting, saw a familiar gargoyle waiting for him. He had apparently been promoted as he now wore slender silver sash that encircled his and encircled his back, left side of his stomach and right side of his chest. The sash formed the ends of its circle just before touching the wing near his right shoulder and again on his side just below his left wing.

Randall hoped his business suit, green scales, and glasses would keep him from being recognized. He extended a hand to the gargoyle.

"Inspector," Randall said warmly.

"Mr. Mayor," the gargoyle bowed and shook his hand, "Inspector Brandon Rookings, at your service."

"You've done some impressive things in turning this town around."

"I do what I can." After his conversion in the temple, Randall's heart had truly changed. He no longer needed the praise of others, but he still felt the shame of what he had done. He hoped that his work went some way toward making amends. He knew what the priest would say. His own works could not get him into paradise. But he felt that in this plain of existence the scales still needed to be set right.

"You have done a lot. Five years ago, this town was so impoverished, starving citizens would resort to theft and prostitution to get food. Your investments in local businesses have put the monsters here to honest work." _It almost makes one wonder how you have so much money to invest and why there is no record of you until five years ago._

At that moment Terry and Terri stepped into the room and, inadvertently, on to Randall's tail. Randall grunted and for a moment returned to his natural purple color.

"Guys, could you please watch where you're going?"

"Sorry Mr. Mayor," Terri said.

"Won't happen again," Terry added.

Seeing that color made Rookings recognize the voice.

"It seems to me, we may have met."

Randall resumed his green coloring. "If we had met, I don't think I would forget you."

* * *

Beth wondered the streets night after night and day after for nearly three weeks looking for some way to raise money for her daughter and pay the rent on her apartment. She tried to return to work, but the manager told her he had lost interest. Each day her daughter grew sicker. She needed money fast. That's why she was on the streets tonight. She walked up to one of the businesses that was still open at this time of night and entered. Inside was a private practitioner, with a sluglike body and a tyrannosaurus-shaped head. He had a medical license but he preferred to collect materials that could be used in medications to actually practicing medicine. Beth entered his office.

"What can I do for you?"

"I'm willing to sell my back teeth for dentures and my tears." Ingrediants for anesthetics could be extracted from cyclops tears.

"Well, Bob the dentist is out right now but I can see about harvesting your tears. If you would follow me," he gestured to a door at the back of the room.

It was a dark room with only one small light casting a sickly golden glow across the room. There was a chair for Beth to sit in while the doctor encouraged her to think sad thoughts as he poured stinging drops into her eye that caused it to water, but she couldn't think sad thoughts easily. She could see her daughter lying in a hospital bed easily enough, but no further letter had come from the Souzas. She had hope that maybe her daughter had improved or was at least stable for the moment. That hope was what kept her going and she couldn't let go of it for one moment. She had to act on her fears because her daughter, but she had to live on hope. She did cry but her tears were in far smaller quantity than what she'd hoped.

"I can't give you very much for this," the doctor said holding the vial.

"What can I do? If I give up hope that I can save my daughter …"

"Maybe you should hold out hope for your daughter, but grieve for yourself?" the doctor suggested.

"What do you mean?"

"Do something where you can still raise money for your daughter, but feel miserable about the way you're doing it." Beth nodded, already hating the suggestion but not disagreeing with it. She left the building with the decision that she would become a pickpocket or a prostitute. Between the two she felt the latter to be the lesser of the two evils since she would be providing a service that monsters paid for.

* * *

Beth got no sleep that night, having physical relations with monsters of every kind of description that came in from the docks and hating herself every minute of was now nearly seven in the morning, she would transfer the money to the Souzas' bank account. Then she would go back to the docks and find a place to sleep until evening. To think that everything had led to this when her scream had been so pure… Her scream…

_I screamed a scream in time gone by,_

_Excitement was high,_

_And my love was indulging,_

_But our hearts were not unbudging._

_Then I was innocent and young_

_Screams of joy were used and wasted_

_I could not see our hearts were strung_

_Around the lie we tasted._

_The griffins are noble in the light,_

_Purrs soothing in the thunder,_

_But different in darkest night,_

_When they don't share your shame!_

_I laid gently at his side,_

_His eyes held me in wonder,_

_We walked hand and stride,_

_But he was gone when a child came_

_Still I want him with me._

_I want him to hold our daughter._

_I want shame to let us be!_

_But my dreams, they must be slaughtered._

_I scream now for many reasons._

_There's a new problem for every season._

_My child is sick and I have no dignity._

_My screams have killed the dream I dreamed!_


	3. What am I?

Next chapter features the return of Randall to Monstropolis. We won't see Sulley, Mike, or Celia until two chapters from now, and then they are more background characters. Mike and Celia's son though is going to be the Marius figure of this story. There's an OC death in this chapter. Randall's nephew Rex, who is mentioned in this chapter, is from _The Monsters Inc. Storybook Collection_.

* * *

Everything was there before Brandon's eyes: three fronds, eight limbs, and the voice. Boggs could change the color of his scales from purple to green and his fronds from pink to yellow; he could wear a business suit and glasses, but he hadn't had surgery to change the shape of his face, and he took so much care with his appearance that he hadn't managed to learn a different accent or pitch for his voice. That wasn't to say that he sounded exactly the same. Randall Boggs had been obstinate, defiant, mocking. Leon Powalski was warm, inviting, if a bit nervous. Powalski did things that would not have been in Boggs's nature to do. Every night he would go to some of the less savory parts of town and give out money to buy food and a night's stay in one of the local inns. By day he would inject money from his personal funds into local business to combat unemployment and into the local hospital. Brandon couldn't see a self-serving monster like Boggs doing that…unless he wanted to get on this town's good side. That, he could very easily see Boggs doing. He had just made a report on this suspicious mayor. Soon he'd have full authority to investigate whether Randall Boggs and Mayor Powalski were one and the same. It was night now, and Brandon and a police detachment were following the mayor.

Gargoyles were naturally nocturnal. At dawn they would fall asleep and their skin and hair would keratinize, becoming as hard as stone. They would shed this layer of skin along with metabolic waste when they awoke. Brandon, however, had trained his body to be able to go long periods without sleep. He generally slept from five-thirty in the morning to four o'clock in the afternoon. He was a light sleeper and could be aroused whenever his job required, as on the day he first came to Screamville-by-the-sea. Now at nine-thirty at night he watched the mayor give money for food and lodging to various street vagrants. His attention was diverted from the mayor when he heard someone on the next block scream, "Police!"

A purple female cyclops was gesturing wildly at a transparent orange blob in the corner of the city park near the dock. She was saying that she would do anything the blob wanted if he didn't contact the police. As Brandon drew closer he shouted, "Tell me quickly, who saw what, and why, and where!"

Brandon then noticed an indenture in the blob that looked like the imprint of the cyclops's four-fingered hand. She had been pushing against him. He looked down the steps that led to the dock. The Cyclops was standing farthest from the steps. She'd been here first and the male blob had pursued her. She'd pushed him back. In just a bit longer than it took Brandon to realize all this, the blob said, "I was walking in the park when this prostitute attacked me!"

Brandon knew immediately that what the blob said was a lie. What was more likely was that the prostitute had refused to service the blob and ran up those steps to get away from him. The mark she left was the result of pushing the blob away. She was innocent of the blob's charges, but she was still guilty of discriminating against a customer. She should be imprisoned for a period or fined. If she did not want to be harassed sexually, she should never have become a prostitute. She was already crying on her knees, but Brandon could turn a deaf ear.

"Please sir, I have daughter. She's sick and if I can't pay—

"Enough!" Brandon snarled. "I have heard these tales since my career began. If you really have a sick daughter, she should be ashamed of you. There are other ways to make money than being a whore." He walked toward her as he was speaking. When he reached her, he crouched to her level and said with such indifference that even hate would have been more welcome, "Save your breath and save your tears."

* * *

Beth felt that her life was over. She had caught some kind of disease from one of her clients that brought on vicious coughing spells. As she knelt on the grass crying at the thought of what imprisonment and—if it were serious—her disease would mean for Sandy's own survival. She broke down into tears and collapsed into a half-laying half-sitting position. All hope seemed gone when she heard a voice say, "I think I believe her."

The mayor was walking forward, speaking to the policeman. "Inspector, I think she should be going to a hospital, not the jail."

Was this the same Mayor Powalski who left her to the mercies of the store manager? Why didn't he care then?

"Why do you care now?" The mayor walked forward on four feet and lowered his upper body so that his eyes were level with her eye.

"I know you from somewhere…What's happened?"

He could have helped her that day at the market but he left. Why had he not helped when it could have mattered?

"You let the manager of the Bay Market fire me! Now my daughter is close to dying!"

Shock was apparent on the mayor's face, also recognition.

"If I had listened to you then…"

Beth targeted a higher authority than the mayor with her next outburst.

"If there were a God, he'd let me die in her place."

"In his name, my task has just begun." The mayor had some of the police pick her up and lay her in the back seat of his car. The next few moments were such a blur of happiness for Beth that she forgot most of the details and knew only that she was on a hospital bed and that the mayor was going to send for Sandy.

* * *

Brandon did not know what to make of Mayor Powalski's performance last night. He'd snapped orders and overruled him in a voice that was unmistakably Randall Boggs's. But he could not imagine Randall Boggs actually caring about a little girl. Boggs's only experience with children was with his nephew Rex and human children. Even if humans were a lower life form than monsters—a fact of which Brandon was not convinced—what Boggs had tried to do with that human girl Sullivan called "Boo" made Brandon certain that Boggs could not be trusted to care for a child regardless of the species. He was almost certain that Mayor Powalski was Randall Boggs…but then he had received a phone call from his superiors. Just before he went to sleep at down, the head office had called back to deny his request for further investigation on Mayor Powalski. Randall Boggs had already been caught. Brandon had been chasing an innocent monster. The thought filled him with shame. He had failed in his duty of protecting the innocent and punishing the guilty. If Boggs had not been found the mayor could have ended up in jail. That was why he now stood in the mayor's office at five p.m.

"What can I do for you, inspector?" the mayor said after looking up from a stack of papers.

"I'm here to tender my resignation. I could have done you serious harm, sir," Brandon said nervously.

"How so?" the mayor asked with what sounded like a mixture of fear and relief in his voice.

"I thought you were Randall Boggs and I filed a report against you. I only learned this morning that the authorities caught him, and that he stands before the court tomorrow." Brandon thought about all the kind acts that the mayor had done and realized how ludicrous it was to think that the mayor could have been Boggs. Brandon could have sent a great monstranitarian to jail all because of his misidentification.

"He will pay…"Brandon nodded and said, choking with anxiety, "…And so must I. Press charges against me, sir."

"Nonsense," the mayor said. "I'm a chameleon monster, Boggs is a chameleon monster. We can change our colors and turn invisible. It's an easy mistake to make. You've actually been very thorough. You should return to your post."

Brandon felt intense relief. The mayor had agreed that the inspector should have had suspicions. He actually discharged his duties faithfully and no innocent had been hurt by it.

"Thank you, sir." Brandon felt much better about himself and left to resume his duties.

* * *

Randall Boggs could not have felt worse about himself. Someone else was going to prison in his place. He had to find where this hearing was taking place, reveal himself to the court…and then what? He had to arrange for someone to take care of Beth's child if she didn't recover…and what to do about all his local projects to fight poverty? Beth and her daughter needed someone. Screamville-by-the-Sea needed someone. But this chameleon monster who the authorities thought was him…he needed the real Randall Boggs. Randall was at his private residence: the one place where he could remove the business suit and glasses and look like his normal purple self before a mirror. He looked at the two silver candle holders placed on a nightstand beside his bed. Five years ago the priest had given these to him. His life belonged to God now. His own heart was too confused to guide him in this matter, but since when had his heart ever been a good guide for him. His desire to be cool, to upstage Sullivan—all that came from his heart. Even his efforts to make Screamville-by-the-Sea a better place were partly driven by the need to feel better about himself. He looked at the candles and at his reflection in the bedroom mirror. What was he?

_They think that monster's me,_

_Without another look._

_This monster they've found,_

_He could get me off the hook._

_Why should I save his butt?_

_Why should I make things right,_

_When this town has come so far,_

_But it could collapse overnight?_

_If I speak, my office is condemned!_

_If I stay silent, my soul is damned!_

_I have thousands of plans for this town,_

_This is my legacy!_

_But is this really about the town?_

_Is not about me?_

_If I speak, my office is condemned!_

_If I stay silent, my soul is damned!_

_What am I?_

_Can I condemn this monster to jail?_

_Pretend I can live when justice fails?_

_The monster who shares my scales,_

_Who goes to prison to end my tale?_

_What am I?_

_By hiding I'm still the same old evil me…_

_That's not what God saved me to be!_

_If I sacrifice him to save myself, am I still_

_The one who kidnaped Boo and wished her ill?_

_What am I?_

_My soul belongs to God, that's so!_

_He healed my soul five years ago._

_He gave me hope in my despair!_

_He alone can judge what's fair!_

Randall knew what he was. Randall Boggs was a redeemed monster who had to do what was right. He turned on his laptop and searched the news articles. Under "Randall Boggs Found," they had a picture of himself from his time in prison and a picture of the monster they claimed was him. He was indeed a chameleon with purple scales, but he was fat, had no fronds, and only four limbs. The hearing was being held in a city that was a four hour drive away at ten a.m. Randall set his alarm clock for five-thirty a.m.

* * *

The court room was packed. Various monsters of all sizes and shapes filled the room. Randall Boggs came in his mayoral disguise and saw the monster whom they accused of being him. He already wore an orange prison jacket. A thought entered Randall's head as he looked at the monster's eyes. He looked unwashed and his fatness could be attributed to the high-fat low-nutrient garbage available to the poor in this country. He might have been driven to petty burglary, the charge he was caught on before the identification, out of sheer necessity. Still, there was a deadly glare in his eyes that said he could be provoked to violence. Randall shook his head. Whatever crimes this monster had committed, they did not include the crime of being Randall Boggs. Randall himself was guilty of that. If he had to go back to jail, so be it. He had broken his parole. He knew his actions at Monsters Inc. had earned him that tracking device, and there could have been other ways to lead a life of contribution that did involve breaking parole and assuming a false ID. He would surrender himself to the authorities after he had made sure Beth's daughter Sandy had been found and had someone to take care of her.

"Mayor Powalski of Screamville-by-the-Sea, you're quite aways from home," the judge said. He was a monster with a leather blue back of the head and hands. Randall suspect his entire back, arms, and legs were of a blue color and leather texture, but they were hidden by a judge's black robes. His face was a smoother lime green. He had a grey horn between his eyes and his mouth formed a warm smile eager to listen to what Mayor Powalski had to say about the case.

"Your honor, ladies and gentlemonsters of the jury, a grave miscarriage of justice is about to occur."

The judge's smile changed to a concerned frown. The members of the jury looked at each other in confusion. They now noticed that the mayor was holding a folder. From that folder he produced an image.

"This is a picture of Randall Boggs. Notice the eight limbs and three fronds. When a lizard monster loses a limb, it regrows it in a few months. This monster here"—Randall pointed to the defendant—"has four limbs and no fronds." Randall handed the photo to the judge and quietly whispered for him to hand the photo to the guard to take it to the jury when he was done.

"Examine not just the number of limbs but also the shape of the face and body."

Randall took that time to remove his coat, vest, shirt, and glasses. When he'd judged that everyone had studied the picture, he changed to his natural purple color.

"This monster cannot be Randall Boggs, because I am Randall Boggs." With that Randall disappeared and slithered as fast as he could out of the building and into his car.

* * *

By that afternoon Randall was back in Screamville-by-the-Sea. He had gathered all his portable belongings into a backpack. His bank accounts were all held under separate names accessed by scores of different credit cards. Not the he intended to need them for very long. His business with Beth's daughter should take three days at most. Then he would turn himself in.

He was at the hospital in Beth's room. It was on the second floor overlooking the river. He'd gotten there easily enough. He'd donated enough to the hospital that the staff was willing to grant him this. Beth's condition was terminal, even now she was singing gently to Sandy who, in her delirium, she saw in the room. When the hallucination disappeared, Beth, not yet in her right mind, screamed "Casandra! Where did you go?"

Randall put his arms on Beth's shoulder and calmly shushed her before she broke the IV in her arm. In a moment Beth understood where she was.

"My child?" She asked.

"She'll be here soon, and I know someone who will take good care of her." Randall said thinking of Terri and Terry.

"No!" Beth said. "Promise me you will take care of her yourself. You are loving and gentle and good."

Could Randall really promise this? To keep Sandy he'd always have to be on the run from the authorities.

"I don't know anyone else at all. You brought me here."

"There's a secret from my past that's about to destroy everything I've built here."

Beth buried here head in Randall's chest. "Do what you have to, but I'm holding you responsible. She turned her head and began coughing violently.

"I promise I'll make sure," Randall said.

"Tell Casandra I love her and I'll see her when I wake." Beth relaxed and then went still, dead.

_I promise your daughter will be all right. I'll see to it, someway…_

Randall heard the door open. Rookings walked inside.

"Isn't this early for you?" Randall asked knowing it could not be any later than four-thirty in the afternoon.

"Boggs, we see each other plain."

Randall got up, turned around and locked eyes with the inspector. He tried not to let his anger show. Brandon Rookings was only doing his duty. But Randall knew he also had a duty. If some of his secret anger came across as determination, so be it!

"Rookings, please listen, there's a duty I'm sworn to do. I promised to help her child. Three days are all I need. Then I'll return!"

He was answered with equal anger.

"As if I could trust you. You're a criminal, Boggs. I know what your kind are like! I hatched inside a jail! My life began with scum like you!"

Rookings raised his Baton. Randall's only chance was to make a run for it. He quickly slithered to the window, his backpack barely slowing him and jumped. He shattered the glass and landed in the river.


	4. Monster of the House

Casandra was a nine-year-old half-griffin, half-cyclops. Her body plan was essentially the same as her mother's, but from her father she had inherited brown fur covering most of her body, two feathered wings on her back and a beak. She was now staring out the windows of the Souzas' foyer. She saw the monsters on the street going about their ways. There was a wide world out there that had to have many families that were kinder than the Souzas. According to law they had to send her to school, but she never had any time to work on homework or spend time with any friends because the Souzas always had her performing some kind of chore necessary to keep the inn running. She was particularly adept at scrubbing toilets. The Souzas often had her scrub completely clean toilets just to keep her busy. Right now her task was to sweep the foyer. There had to be something better in the world outside those windows.

"What do we have here?" Mrs. Souza asked as she came down the stairs. She was some kind of giant shrimp monster with—was it eighteen arms and legs? Sandy always lost count. Mrs. Souza spoke like most of the inhabitants of Monstropolis, apart from always sounding tired, but Senhor Souza had a foreign accent.

"The little girl pretending, once again, she's been so awfully good," Mrs. Souza said sarcastically as she descended. On reaching ground level she took an angry tone and shouted, "Better not let me catch you slacking! We should never have taken you in in the first place!"

That was typical Mrs. Souza. Unprovoked verbal abuse was a fact of life for Sandy from her. Senhor preferred to simply ignore Sandy and sometimes couldn't even remember her name. He was a reddish-purple fish monster with sharp yellow fangs, yellow eyes, and scrawny arms and legs. His underside was a pale beige. Just slightly nearer to his head than his arms were, were his gills. These gills absorbed oxygen in its gaseous form. He had something of a cephalothorax: his head, chest and shoulders were all on the same level vertically. At the moment, he was asleep, drunk in the inn's bar and restaurant with some regular patrons.

At this time the Souza children rushed downstairs. Samantha, the elder who had her father's shape and her mother's color, and Erica, about the same age as Sandy, with her mother's shape and her father's colors came rushing from upstairs.

"Mama!" they screamed as they raced down the stairs and were swallowed by their mother's embrace.

"We're finished with our homework," Samantha said. "And since school's going to be out in a week for winter break and and our favorite TV Show is having its winter finale tonight, we were wondering if mommy could join us in our room upstairs?" Erica finished.

"Sorry, pumpkins, but Mommy has to wake up your useless drunk father to see to any customers that might come by"-Senhora stopped mid-sentence. An idea struck her.

"Casandra!" Casandra came running, carrying her broom.

"Yes, ma'am?"

Mrs. Souza went to her cash register and got some extra some money.

"Here!" She snapped and gave Sandy the money. "Buy some cocoa for my daughters!"

With that Sandy rushed outside, the girls back upstairs, and Mrs Souza to her worthless drunk husband.

When Mrs. Souza saw him collapsed on the floor she kicked his tailfin just bellow where his legs grew on.

"Wakey, Wakey. We're open!"

"Eu te amo. Eu te amo muito," He said groggily.

* * *

He struggled to his feet. He saw Steve, a solid blue blob with a high alcohol resistance level, offer him another glass.

"Not tonight," Senhor Souza put his hands on his head, trying to overcome his hangover by sheer will power.

He walked into the foyer and saw his wife at the cash register. He locked his hands together with palms facing outward and cracked his knuckles. It was time to overcharge some customers. That was the main way he made his living, overcharging customers, blatantly stealing from them, and extorting money out of the mother of the girl that they took in by pretending her daughter was sick. Mrs. Souza always saved a portion of their money to help their daughters enter college. Senhor Souza preferred to hoard his money and not use it for any purpose. Therefore, the family lived in relative poverty. Senhor had grown up in poverty, loved his money, and hated to part with it. He heard the doorbell chime and was ready to welcome a green cylindrical cyclops into the inn. He greeted him in song.

"Welcome, Senhor, fresh from de road.

Come here and rest and lay down your load."

He took the cyclops's suitcase.

"You see, I'm a very honest monster—

independent wit no corporate sponsor."

Souza handed the suitcase to his wife. She took money and valuables out of the suitcase while he sang.

"We charge reasonable rates.

We even cater dates.

I'm a very honest fish,

Whose deepest sincere wish

Is to be… Monster of de House,

Meeting lots of folks,

telling dirty jokes,

Enjoying de spice of life,

Ignoring my nagging wife!"

She handed the suitcase back to the cyclops, minus some of his more expensive valuables.

Senhor headed back into the bar room where a young yeti had just returned to his senses.

"Monster of de House, seeing to every need."

He looked in the freezer and saw that they were almost out of beer. No matter, he was a land fish and his metabolism could provide the answer. Emptying the contents of his bladder while no one was looking, he handed a mug to the yeti.

"Serving to his friends when dey pay, indeed."

The yeti handed him two monstros for what he thought was fresh beer.

"Every price is fair.

We charge you for de drains

dat are clogged wit hair.

Tree percent for windows,

Two percent for lights,

Tally up de tally,

It comes out allright."

Senhor explained in song the "fair prices" to a walking T Rex Head and his pink skinned wife.

Two soldiers wearing camouflage entered. One was a blue skinned monster with no ears and a horn on his nose. The other was green with a praying mantis head. They walked straight into the bar. They saw the fish monster follow them and sing and concluded that he was drunk. The mantis put his wallet on the table to pay for a round of drinks. Then Mrs. Souza approached them. She stared seductively into the mantis's eyes.

"Monster of the House, isn't worth my spit:

comforter, philosopher, and life-long twit.

Never had the skills to really know to scare.

Thinks he's rather funny, but is full of hot air."

Before the mantis realized it she had taken more from his wallet then price of the drinks he was ordering.

* * *

Randall was in a local convenience store. He was buying some energy bars and nuts that could sustain a monster with a small appetite for a few days. Then he noticed a half-cyclops half-griffin girl buying cocoa mix. She matched the description that Beth had given of her child, so Randall had to ask, "What's a child your age doing here all alone?"

"Mrs. Souza sends me on errands like this all the time."

_Souza? That's the name of the family that Sandy is staying with…_

"What's your name, girl?" Randall asked.

"Casandra."

_So much for her being sick._

"Why don't I buy that cocoa mix for Mrs. Souza? You're mother, Beth, sent me to get you."

This stranger knew her mom's name so maybe it was safe to talk him. Maybe he even knew how mom was doing.

"How is my mom?"

Randall should have seen that coming and chided himself for not seeing it.

He put a hand on Sandy's shoulder and said softly, "She isn't suffering anymore."

Sandy gulped and asked, "Do you mean she's gone?"

Randall gently hugged Sandy with all four of his arms.

"I'm afraid so," he said softly, "but her last request was to get you out of here."

"Will you be like my dad?"

Randall paused. He'd been prepared to bring her to Terri and Terry, but if he was right, and the Souzas treated her the way he expected, she might not want to be parted from her rescuer. Part of him wanted to be a father.

"We'll see," he said and held her closely.

* * *

They entered the Souzas' foyer. Both Souzas approached.

They would normally have assumed that Randall was a guest, but he was holding Sandy's hand.

"I'm here to reimburse you for your care for this child. I'm afraid her situation has changed. Now her mother," Randall looked from the Souzas to Sandy, "is with God. Her suffering is over." He spoke in a voice and with a look on his face that tried to be honest and comforting at the same time. Judging by the look on Sandy's face and the way she held tightly to him, he gathered he succeeded. He turned to face the Souzas, "I speak now with her voice and stand here in her place."

"Well, dis is unexpected," Senhor Souza said. He walked over to Sandy and bent down to squeeze her cheeks.

"This precious girl is like part of our family, parting wit her will be very hard. We can't let her go after all these years witout some…how do you say…oh, yes…compensation…for little Catarina."

"Casandra." Mrs. Souza corrected.

"Right, Casandra."

Senhor Souza had just said to Randall something that very quickly gave him an unfavorable opinion of the fish. Randall was not unwilling to pay, but he was troubled that Senhor Souza was more interested in money than in trying to figure out if Beth had really sent him. He supposed he should thank God that Souza was not interested in who he really was, but he was troubled that Souza was so careless about Sandy's safety and that he couldn't remember his own ward's name.

Randall removed his backpack, unzipped it and took out a stack of twelve hundred monstros.

"Is twelve hundred enough to compensate you?"

Now Mrs. Souza began to talk, "That's almost enough, but all the money we've spent on food and medicine over the years…the cost adds up."

Randall sighed. He reached back into his backpack.

"Here's three hundred more. Will that be enough?"

The Souzas gathered together for a minute and discussed the price between themselves.

Randall looked to Sandy and held her hand tightly. When the Souzas finally agreed to the price, Randall payed it and took Sandy into his custody.

* * *

Randall had stopped before they left town to buy a doll for Sandy that looked like one of the sisters from the PNK sorority back in Randall's MU days. Now they were on a bus ride to Monstropolis. Sandy's head rested on Randall's lower shoulder. With his upper hand he stroked the child's fur. Torrents of emotions were raging in Randall's heart. Before he'd taken Sandy in he had never know how much happiness could come from familial love. He had never known the stores of love locked up inside that he had to give, but he also felt fear. What would happen to the child if Rookings caught him? What would happen to Sandy psychologically if she learned that this monster who had shown her more love in a few hours than the Souzas had in seven years had been at one time a dangerous criminal? He knew that the first place to head in Monstropolis was the Temple where the Yeti priest had once helped him. Only five short years had passed, so if God willed that same priest would still be there. Randall looked down at Sandy and kissed her head.


End file.
